


An Offering of Truce

by pastarc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 18:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20314357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastarc/pseuds/pastarc





	An Offering of Truce

“Bonkers, mate.” stated Ron, with one of his wide smiles plastered over his face, meant to appease Harry. “You’ve just no luck with brooms, do ya?”

He did not realize he had just made the biggest mistake of the day.

What he got in return was a barely articulate grunt and a loud stomp from Harry.

“Blimey, Angie.” he whispered to Angelina Johnson, who was standing right behind Harry. “After all these years, and he finally starts losing his marbles over _this_?”

“Uh-huh.” was all Angelina could muster, as they both stared at Harry, who was apparently losing absolutely all of his shit next to the broom cupboard. He kicked and stomped around, landing invisible blows all over the place, and pressing all of his weight against the brooms with his shoulder, until he finally managed to close the cabinet with an ear-shattering slam.

“Calm down, will ya? You know all of the brooms here are at your disposal. Just take one of the newest _Comets_, it’ll serve you just as well.” Angelina now tried her luck at calming Harry down. In all of their five years at the Amateur Quidditch League together, they’ve never seen him act this way.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?!” Harry took the deepest sigh so far, put his hands on his hips and started shaking his head furiously. He finally averted his look towards the Firebolt laying at his feet, snapped in half.

Ron could swear he heard a whimper escape Harry’s lips. They had quite obviously grossly underestimated the sentimental value Harry had placed on this particular broom. After all, it was a gift from Sirius.

“I swear to Merlin, I’m going to strangle that git!” Harry finally bellowed.

This was their second finals against _The Basilisks_. Unfortunately for them, it was the first match with Draco Malfoy on the team. Apparently, he still hadn’t managed to shake off all of his nasty little habits of cheating when playing Quidditch, pulling off what would usually be a laughable twirl, but with a single purpose – to knock Harry over and off his broom, and ultimately catch the Snitch. This he managed, but with an unforeseeable consequence: by falling down, Harry made an unfortunate tumble to the ground, smashing Firebolt in the process.

After a few moments of total silence, the only sound which broke it was Ron’s light pat on Harry’s shoulder.

“Come on, mate. What’s done is done. What could you expect from an idiot like Malfoy? Once a git, always a git, you know that. People like that never change. How about a butterbeer, huh? On me.”

Harry exhaled heavily through his nostrils once more. “Nah, man, thanks. I just… I need a shower. And some sleep. Catch you tomorrow, okay?”

“If you say so, mate.” said Ron, with something of a concern on his face. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You just go on.”

* * *

With a slight “pop!” and a long fizz off the bottle, some of the tension in Harry’s shoulders seemed to slowly fizz out too, thankfully. He could still feel the steam of the hot shower on his skin, which opened up his pores, making him realize just how exhausted and beaten he actually felt.

And then it hit him once again. That broom was extremely precious to him. By now, it provided the only tangible link to Sirius – through that broom, the memory of him still lived on. Now it was broken. Harry once again felt something bubbling up inside him, reaching his throat. That feeling was soon replaced by that of surprise, as he laid his eyes on a large box sitting right in the middle of his living room. A moment of suspicion followed, as though this day was bent on being an emotional roller-coaster for Harry. He took his time approaching it, and even more time opening it.

His jaw dropped to the floor after seeing its contents – he thought his eyes might be deceiving him.

Because what lay inside was the very same thing he had lost today – his broomstick.

“But ho--?” Harry had just started asking himself, when he noticed a small note next to the broom. He picked the broom up and examined it with his fingers.

He could barely believe it – every single twig, every single crevice was in its place. There was even that familiar feel of the smooth wood under his fingers. This had to have been custom made. But in one afternoon? Someone must have paid a fortune. He now remembered the note and picked it up.

“_In hopes that this manages to convince you that sometimes people do, in fact, try their best to change. _  
_With sincerest apologies, _  
_ Draco Malfoy_”

Who knew? Maybe the git wasn’t such a git, after all.


End file.
